


New Perspective, A

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-15
Updated: 2004-01-15
Packaged: 2019-05-15 01:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14780924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh and Ainsley have a late night talk.





	New Perspective, A

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

Title: A New Perspective 

Author: Alex 

Category: General, focus on Ainsley Hayes 

Rating: PG 

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they belong to Aaron Sorkin, etc.... 

Feedback: please, this is my first fan fic, give me feedback!! 

 

It was ten o'clock at night, and Ainsley wanted to go home. She was knee deep in documents regarding the Kirkland rider, and she still had to finish researching the Rockwood bill. It looked like she was going to pull an all nighter. God, she thought, I haven't done this since law school. A quiet knock at the door made her look up, and as she removed her glasses, she saw Sam Seaborn standing there.

"Hey Sam, what can I do for you?" she asked wearily while returning to the huge book that lay open on her desk.

"Well, I have a question."

Ainsley looked up.

"Well, um, Leo made this new rule that whenever the senior staff had an issue to discuss with the president, we had to make a two page summary of our arguments, and show it to Leo, and then he would decide whether or not the president gets to see it," he said quickly.

"I know that already, Sam, but in the interest of saving time, how does this relate to me?" she asked in barely concealed irritation.

"Well, I have a 26 page briefing memo that I have to get down to two pages, and I kind of have to go over the stuff on the Rockwood bill, so I was wondering if you could do it."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Well, no."

"Sam, I'm not a member of the secretarial pool, why don't you just get Cathy to do it or something? Belive it or not, I do have other important things to do."

"I know, it's just..."

"You need my help."

"Yeah."

"Again."

"Yeah."

"Last time it was on small business fraud, what's it this time?"

"Social security."

"Alright, fine," she said taking it as he handed it to her.

"You're not going to reverse my position again, are you?" he asked, remembering the last time he asked her for help.

"If it needs polishing, I'll polish it," Ainsley responded coyly without looking up from her laptop.

"Ainsley...." Sam started in protest.

"Sam, I'm doing your paper for you, when I am under no obligation to do so. If you don't like how I do it, then ask someone else," Ainsley snapped, exasperated with the continued interuption.

He let a few seconds of silence pass before he said, "Thank you," and walked out of her office. Ainsley sighed as she added the papers to the already daunting pile on her desk. She turned back to her laptop, a look of fierce determination on her face.

***************

Ainsley opened her eyes, and slowly brought her head up off of her desk. She rubbed her neck as she looked at her watch. Seven o'clock. Damn it, I fell asleep, she thought. She had worked until two in the morning, and miraculously had gotten everything finished. She left her tomb of an office, and went upstairs to find some form of caffiene.

Refreshed and slightly energized, Ainsley returned to her office. In a matter of minutes, she was lost in the endless amout of paperwork that cluttered her desk. Then she remembered what day it was. Realization hit her like a truck, and she put her head in her hands, remembering what took place years ago today. I can't believe I almost forgot, she thought to herself. Her shoulders slumped, and she lost the little bit of energy provided by her morning coffee, as memories flooded into her head. She saw her mother, rocking back and forth, sobbing; she saw her father. Her father. God, I miss him so much, thought Ainsley. She saw doctors, white coats, linoleum floors. Blood, blood everywhere. She sat with the heels of her hands digging into her eyes for a long time, just remembering.

She was pulled out of her stupor by the harsh ringing of the phone. "Ainsley Hayes," she said absentmindedly.

"Ainsley, it's Leo," a voice said.

"Hey Leo, what can I do for you?"

"Can you come up to my office? I need to discuss a new bill that Henry is trying to pass through the House."

"Yeah, I'll be right up."

"Thank you."

**************

Ainsley walked into Leo's office to see Toby, Sam, Josh, and CJ already assembled. Leo looked up as she walked in. "Alright everybody, Thomas Henry is trying to pass a bill that says that citizens are not allowed to own guns. His bill says that weapons of any kind are banned, and he proposes a massive collection effort, which will be conducted by the police."

"That's absurd, it'll never pass. What is he trying to pull?" Toby asked.

"He knows it will never pass, but he thinks it will open the floodgates to other gun legislation," Leo replied.

"What does he want the police to do, bang on people's doors, hold them at gunpoint and say, 'Give me all your guns?'" Josh questioned.

"He knows it will never pass, he's just an extremist, and he's testing the waters for tougher gun laws. Ainsley, can you do research for me on all previous rulings about weapon and gun control?" Leo said, directing his gaze to Ainsley.

"Yeah, sure, I'll get right on it."

"Great. CJ, I need you to manage the press corps, and if they ask what the president thinks about the new bill, say the president admires Thomas Henry's gumption, and although he has good intentions, he thinks that maybe he is jumping off the deep end."

"Ok." CJ affirmed.

"Good, I need to go brief the president," Leo said as he left the room.

"That bill is off the wall," Ainsley said.

"Well, it's not totally out of the realm of possibility," Josh said. Everyone in the room turned to look at him.

"What?" Ainsley questioned, her eyebrows raised.

"Well, ultimately, I think that's what we should strive for. You don't agree?" He paused. "Wait a minute, I forgot who I was talking to. Of course you don't agree."

"No, I don't."

"You don't even think we should make it harder to buy weapons legally?"

"I think we should do anything it takes to keep guns out of the hands of children and criminals," Ainsley said.

"But not specifically institute new restrictions on gun users?" Josh asked.

"Josh, safety locks, cooling off periods, background checks; they're all good ideas. But if you're asking me whether or not I think guns should be taken out of the hands of the people, then I have to answer emphatically, no, " Ainsley replied.

"You don't think that by taking weapons away, the populace would be safer?"

"No, I don't."

"You can look me in the eyes and say that?" Josh challenged, starting to get angry.

"Yes, and not only can I say that, but I think that people have the CONSTITUTIONAL right to bear arms; by taking away weapons from law abiding citizens, you are denying them their natural right to defend themselves."

"Guns don't prevent crimes. I was shot and the president was shot, while we were in the presence of the best trained soldiers in the history of the world. They had the best weapons modern technology had to offer, and that didn't stop two skinheads from Wheeling from shooting into the crowd that night," Josh countered.

"No it didn't. This White House is fond of using that analogy; I've heard CJ say it before, but I have to ask you this: How many people would have been injured, or even killed if the secret service hadn't opened fire when they did? The reason so few people were hurt was because the assassins were down within ten seconds. How many would they have killed if the secret service weren't there with their guns? Likewise, in over 50% of all assaults, burgluries, armed robberies and attacks, where the victim is armed with a gun, they haven't sustained major injuries or had any major loss of property. " Ainsley paused to let her words sink in. "There will always be guns out there; you know that Josh. Regardless of whether it's legal or not, people will always be willing to manufacture and sell guns, and there will always be people who will go to any and all means to get them. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. But I don't believe that guns kill people. People kill people. And instead of wasting so much time worrying about gun control, we should worry about trying to get criminals prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."

"You believe in capital punishment?" Josh questioned.

"Yes, I do," Ainsley said with conviction.

"Even though you're a Catholic?"

"Yes. People need to be held accountable for their actions. They need to realize that if they take another life, they will have to deal with retribution for their actions."

"It's not that simple."

"Why don't we make it that simple?"

"You don't understand capital punishment and gun control..." Josh started.

"Don't say that."

"... and what right do you have to come in here and preach to me about something you don't understand!" Josh was furious at the audicity this girl had to come in here and lecture him about guns and killing.

"I said don't say that. Don't tell me what I don't understand." Ainsley was starting to get angry.

Josh finally lost his temper. "You and your opinions are naive, idealistic, and you're only reciting what you learned at daddy's knee. You are a spoiled, little, southern princess, who has your connections to thank for everything you've gotten in your life. You got into Harvard because daddy got you in. And you have no right to talk to me about gun control and capital punishment. You've lived such a sheltered, protected life, you've never had any exposure to crime and guns. Have you ever lived through a shooting? Has anything ever hit you hard? In your mansion in North Carolina, and with your 50 million dollar net worth, you've never seen anything bad happen. You don't understand the weight that such a tragedy leaves on you. You're a catholic, yet you believe in capital punishment, because you want to fit the framework of a traditionally conservative republican. You've had everything you've ever needed handed to you on a silver platter, and the biggest problem you've ever had to face was whether or not daddy would buy you the mercedes you wanted on your sixteenth birthday!!!" Josh finished his angry tirade.

Ainsley's eyes, which had started out indignant and angry, now were just sad. Sam, Toby, and CJ all looked at her, waiting for a response to Josh's total demoralization of her character.

She started out slow, her voice not angry, but heavy with sadness. "You know what Josh? My father didn't get a chance to buy me a mercedes for my sixteenth birthday, because he was shot and killed when I was twelve. Fifteen years ago today."

A heavy, tangible silence hung in the air. Ainsley's eyes stared into the distance, remembering. When she started talking again, her voice was slow, reflective, and laden with sorrow. "Yeah, we were in a bank; this guy just walked in and started shooting. He killed seven people. Not much happened to him though. He was caught, convicted; he got life, but, he's out on parole right now. This guy killed seven people, critically wounded five others, including children, and he's on the streets."

She paused, and her voice turned hard. "Don't tell me I don't understand capital punishment, or gun control, because I understand them a hell of a lot better than you ever will, and I've understood them since I was twelve years old. And don't talk to me about my life. You know nothing about me, except the fact that I'm a republican, which automatically means I'm cold, mean, heartless, I've never had to work for anything, ever, and I've never had any problems. That is not true. Nothings been handed to me, and everywhere I've gotten in my life I've had to work my ass off to get there, and I've had more that my fair share of difficulties. So, if you're going to walk in here and preach to me about my "perfect" life, and the fact that nothing's ever hit me hard, then next time do your homework."

A ringing silence filled the air, as her words reverborated off the walls. "Here's the stuff on the Kirkland rider," she said quietly, placing the folder on the table with a slight rustle, and getting up and leaving the room.

CJ, Sam Toby, and Josh sat in a stunned silence, until Josh said, "I... am an asshole."

"You sure are," CJ affirmed. One by one they got up and left the room, leaving Josh sitting there.

**********

It was eight o'clock at night, and Ainsley decided it was time to pack it in and go home. She had been at the White House for more than thirty - six hours already, and she needed a hot shower, some food, and lots of sleep. She gathered up her coat, briefcase and purse, and started to climb the stairs leading up from her dungeon office. Her shoulders slumped, her feet dragged, and she was thouroughly discouraged. The day had been really depressing, what with Josh's tantrum, the endless amount of work, and memories of her father accosting her at every turn. I wonder what he would have thought about me working in a democratic white house, she mused. God, he loved politics. The night when he was elected to the Senate, he was positively jumping up and down, and the fact that one of his children shared his love of politics made him so proud. Ainsley walked through the bullpen, stopping to knock at Sam's office door. He was on the phone, but looked up when he heard her knock and motioned her in. Ainsley pulled a manila envelope out of her briefcase,

"Yeah, okay, you tell him that for me. Thanks a lot, Ken, okay, bye," Sam finished up on the phone, and directed his attention to Ainsley.

"Here's your paper on social security," she said, handing it to him.

"Sit down while I look through it," he replied. She sat. After a few minutes, he looked up. "You didn't change my position," he said, sounding surprised.

"No, I didn't."

"But you don't agree with me," he asked, his question not really a question, but a statement.

"No, I don't."

"Then why didn't you change it?"

"It's your position, Sam, not mine. It's your paper, you'll be presenting it to the president, and you should be giving him your ideas, not mine," she said flatly.

"Well, what do you think?" Sam asked.

Ainsley paused a minute to think. "Social security needs reform. Without it, benefits will exceed contributions beginning in 2015 and the system will go bankrupt in 2037. I think the government should set up individual accounts, controlled by the recipients. Over the long term, sound investments in a balanced portfolio of stocks and bonds yield about a 6 percent return after inflation. Even the safest government bonds yield 4 percent. Individuals should make the decision of whether or not they want to invest their share of the money, not the government," Ainsley finished. They sat in silence for a few seconds. "Anyway, I have to get home, I've been here forever. See you tomorrow, Sam."

"Bye," Sam said absentmindedly, deep in thought. She looks really sad, Sam thought. Maybe I should go say something to her. No, that might be kind of awkward. What Josh said earlier really seemed to throw her off balance; she seems a little off her game. She'll be okay tomorrow.

Ainsley walked slowly down the hall, pausing for a second at Donna's desk. "Good night, Donna."

"Bye Ainsley," Donna said with a smile. I really don't mind her as much as everyone else does, Donna thought. In fact, I kind of like her. I don't think everyone else really dislikes her either, they're just a little wary of her and her ideas.

Josh looked up as Ainsley passed his office. After a moment of indecision, he got up and followed her.

"Ainsley." he called.

She turned around. "Josh, if you're here to yell at me, I don't really think this is the time or..." she started.

"No, I'm not here to yell at you. In fact, um, I just wanted to apologize for what I said earlier. It was rude, and inappropriate, and I was out of line. I'm sorry," Josh said slowly.

"You were out of line," Ainsley replied calmly, no hint of emotion in her voice. "But it's okay, Josh, I can see how you could have thought that about me, even if it wasn't true."

"It was horrible of me, and I just wanted you to know, that I don't have any excuse for saying the things I did, I just... I just lost my temper. Also, I'm sorry about your dad. I didn't know."

"Josh, really, it's okay, it happened fifteen years ago. There was no way you could have known. Thank you for apologising, though," Ainsley replied with a slight smile.

"Your welcome."

"Ok, I'll see you tomorrow," Ainsley said, turning around to leave.

"Ainsley, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but, um, were you hit.. in the shooting?" Josh asked tentatively.

Ainsley paused for a minute. Then she nodded and said, "Yes, I was. A bullet traveled through my pulmonary vein and into my heart; I was put on bypass, and I was in surgery for 22 hours," she said quietly.

Josh nodded. She turned away to leave again.

"Ainsley, well, um..." Josh stammered.

"Yeah, Josh?" she asked gently.

"Do you ever really recover? I mean, emotionally," Josh asked quietly, remembering all the sleepless nights, nightmares, visions of the gunmen, the sound of screams.

She thought for a minute. "No, not completely. But, over time, it's easier to deal with. I was only twelve, so my experience was probably much different than yours, but it does get easier. Hang in there, and don't be afraid to ask for help," she said.

"Okay, thank you Ainsley."

She smiled. "Good night, Josh."

He looked thoughtful. "Good night," he said softly, watching her retreating back as she walked down the hallway, and out the door.

 

THE END

 

  

  


End file.
